


That Neighborhood Song

by MellytheHun



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Charles Is a Big Dorkface, Charles Xavier has a Ph.D in Adorable, Erik Has Feelings, Erik has Issues, First Class Road Trip, Flirting, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Pre-Slash, Telepathy, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 02:59:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 580
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19098388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MellytheHun/pseuds/MellytheHun
Summary: Erik is cold, cranky, and Charles is supposed to be a genius.Written for M <3





	That Neighborhood Song

“Erik?”

“Mm?”

“Are you cold?”

Arizona, it turns out, is terribly warm during the day, and then bleakly chilled during the evenings, and Erik had not prepared for that.

He had prepared very singularly for three very warm days, spent tracking down a young mutant - not chilly nights, extending the search into bars and restaurants, and loitering outside of them.

In response to Charles’ inquiry, Erik is a little torn between nodding begrudgingly (the honest answer), ignoring Charles completely (avoidance), or turning, and punching Charles in the face (perhaps a bit anti-social).

It’s difficult to choose - Charles is, quite literally, a mind-reader, though, and so it is hard for Erik to not become frustrated with him when he asks asinine questions like ‘are you cold?’ 

It doesn’t matter whether or not Erik is cold; he has certainly endured colder conditions with less layers, and he’s survived worse discomforts, so if he’s not complaining, he doesn’t see why Charles has to call attention to it. 

Moreover, Erik doesn’t appreciate the false sense of security Charles insists on maintaining between them. He would prefer Charles just admit to knowing everything already.

“Well, if you insist,” Charles murmurs, “For you information, though, Erik, I was not reading your mind - well, at first. You have your arms tucked very tightly against your chest - indicated a bit more than your typical brooding.”

“I don’t brood,” Erik complains, broodingly, “And calling attention to my discomfort accomplished what, precisely?”

“Well, it gave me a perfect opportunity to be a proper English gentleman, and offer you my sweater.”

“I don’t need it.”

“I really didn’t ask that, now did I?” Charles smirks, stripping off his cardigan, which will, in all likelihood, be much too small for Erik to realistically wear. And much too pastel, as well. 

“Here - take my sweater, Erik,” Charles offers theatrically, as if they were rehearsing a scene together.

Dismissively, Erik rolls his eyes, and looks away, “I don’t need it,” he insists.

A moment later, he feels Charles gently draping the cotton over his shoulders, and what was Charles’ body heat is seeping into him now. 

A strange, new comfort.

He looks over to Charles, and finds himself absolutely fascinated with the pink shade Charles’ cheekbones have taken on.

“And your sense of security with me isn’t false, by the way. I really hope you believe that. I respect you, Erik, and I do hope you eventually feel the same in return.”

“You’ll likely know before I do,” Erik notes, cocking a brow.

Charles looks up at him, about to make some snide remark about how he doesn’t spend all his time reading Erik’s mind, waiting for his respect to become apparent, but he is also fluent in body language, able to see Erik’s invitation, and take it. 

Charles takes the opportunity to brush his mind against Erik’s, making no effort to hide what he’s doing.

_That was a trick, you see. I already do respect you. More than you might understand, Charles._

Charles’ blush deepens, and he smiles, putting his hand away from his temple, before replying, _very clever trick there, Erik, **complimenting** me. Is that your idea of a trick?_

_And is this your idea of being respectful?_

Startled into a giggle, Charles breaks the telepathic bond, grinning dumbly at the sidewalk.

 _No_ , Charles thinks strictly to himself with a hammering heart, _but my idea of a **trick** is conveniently getting the smell of your cologne on my cardigan for later keeping._


End file.
